


Out of Hand

by Alethia



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Feelings, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 02:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: "You've been wanting to ask me something for an hour. Just spit it out. I already know it's about your feelings or sex. Those are the only two things that make you this uncomfortable."Michael shifted, unsettled that Tilly could read her so well. Why had she thought talking about this was a good idea?Tilly clocked her reaction, seeming delighted. "This is my favorite day. Talk sex to me, Michael, let's do this."





	Out of Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just saying, given Michael's romantic history, it's unlikely that she's had loads of sex for an extended period of time. So that'd be a new thing. Also posted [here](https://alethia.dreamwidth.org/1025236.html).

Michael walked into his ready room carrying a container of food, zeroing in on Chris, busy at his desk. The reflected light from the sun outside cast him in gold, making him seem to glow. Michael could hardly be blamed for the way the sight gripped her, the ever-present want _pulsing_. 

Chris looked up at the sound of the doors, lips immediately quirking into a smile. It was one of the private ones, shared between them alone. "This is a surprise."

"Saru said you were working through lunch. I brought you something." She set the container on the edge of his desk as she approached. 

Chris looked from the container then up to her, gaze going knowing, seeing past the excuse to the heat underneath. "Really?" he asked, a surprised lilt to it. "It's been five hours."

Michael flushed at the reminder of the shower they'd shared that morning, senses already buzzing. They weren't talking about food anymore. 

She lowered her eyes and shrugged. "Only if you want," she said, just now realizing how...shameless this all was. How inappropriate. What was she thinking?

Chris instantly stood, stepped into her space, and _took_ her mouth, kissing her thoroughly. He broke the kiss, but kept one hand on her cheek, staying close. "Yeah, that's never gonna be a no from me," he said against her mouth, already a little breathless. "You just caught me off guard." His eyes went knowing as he smirked. "Was it the thing with Leland?"

"You're very...compelling when you're standing up to bullies," she murmured, arms wrapping around his waist to pull him against her.

"Of course fighting for what's right gets you hot," he said, grinning, before dipping down to kiss her again. He backed off for long enough to bark out, "Computer, privacy protocol," and then Michael reeled him back in, claiming his mouth, needy and hot. 

She rubbed her body against his, already feeling him half-hard just from a few kisses. She got a hand between them, pressing the heel of it against his erection. 

"Fuck," he muttered into her mouth, his hips snapping forward, uncontrolled. "We have a briefing in thirty."

"This is not gonna take that long," she shot back, hands already working at the clasp to his pants. 

Chris groaned and returned the favor, undoing her pants skillfully, but then his hands gripped and stilled as Michael wrapped her hand around him, squeezing. He was fully hard for her now and she nibbled at his jaw, drawing him out of his pants and stroking lightly. "I want you inside me," she said, voice dark. 

His dick _pulsed_ in her hand. 

Chris plucked at her own pants, hands gone shaky. "Off," he snapped, color high in his cheeks. 

Michael grinned and relented, taking her hands away from him so she could help. She kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her pants and underwear at the same time, once again cursing how awful the uniforms were for access. 

As soon as she kicked her pants away, Chris grabbed her hips and hauled her up onto his desk, her legs going around him automatically. Michael moaned at the feeling of cool glass underneath her, his hardness pressing against her. They must be a sight—Chris still fully clothed, Michael naked from the waist down, tangled in each other on top of his desk, of all things—but as she arched toward him with a hissed, " _yes_ ," she found she couldn't care. 

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about this," Chris muttered, kissing up her chin to take her mouth again. 

"Get in line," she said, reaching between them to position him against where she was hot and wet and _ready_. Like she _always_ was these days. 

Chris frowned, fingers tracing over her hips. "You don't want—"

"I'm good, I'm good," Michael muttered, chasing his tongue into his mouth, squeezing her legs around him urgently, getting a grunt of acknowledgment. He broke the kiss to meet her eyes just as he pressed _in_ , Michael grabbing at his hips and urging him on. 

When he sank in fully, Chris breathed out, resting his forehead against hers as she panted against him, reveling in the stretch, how full she felt, every nerve ending sparking delight up her spine. This was _exactly_ what she'd been imagining all morning, watching him verbally spar with Leland, trying to ignore the slickness between her legs and never quite succeeding. 

She didn't have to ignore it anymore. Michael clenched around him, eliciting a faint moan, Chris pulling back to shake his head at her. "Seriously?" he asked.

"More," she whispered back, her internal muscles working around him; she wanted to _feel this_. 

Chris acquiesced with a grunt, withdrawing and then driving back into her, Michael's head snapping back as heat raced up her spine. Chris did it again, shifting angles, one hand hitching her thigh higher. He kept driving into her, shifting minutely until he found an angle that made her cry out, helpless. He flashed a grin, biting at her mouth, then proceeded to fuck into her at that exact, perfect angle, over and over again until his desk shook and Michael was crying out every time he seated himself inside her. 

Pleasure burned through her, whole body tingling, Michael moaning freely into Chris' mouth, grasping uselessly at his arms, his shoulders, reaching for it. 

Chris pressed a hand between them and worked his fingers over her clit, Michael seizing as everything went hot and tight, pleasure crashing down on her in a wave, stealing all sense. 

After, Michael panted into his mouth, shaking. Chris did the same, obviously trying to regain control. He kissed her, lush and soft like he did after he came. It was a bit startling to realize that she recognized it. 

Then he broke the kiss, smiling slightly at her, kissing the tip of her nose as he pulled back a little. His attention widened and he breathed out a laugh, once. Michael frowned and looked around—

To find his lunch container on the deck, having spilled its contents everywhere when it fell.

Michael looked back to Chris. "Your fault," she accused, mild.

"Oh, and whose idea was this?" he shot back, tapping her thighs lightly. Michael sighed and unhooked her legs, letting him withdraw from her body, both of them moaning slightly at the loss. 

"Both our faults," she amended, hopping down from his desk and shaking out the pleasant tremble in her legs. She'd feel this for the rest of the day. Michael smiled a little, then caught Chris studying her. 

"What?" 

"You're incorrigible." But he smiled as he kissed her again. 

***

The problem was, even after having him on his desk, Michael still _wanted_. The heat simmered within her, settling between her legs, pulsing every time he issued orders, gestured idly, simply _looked_ at her. She wanted to climb on top of him in the captain's chair. She wanted him to drop to his knees at her science station. She _wanted_...and it wouldn't stop.

***

Michael was supposed to be reviewing repair inventory. She was taking an hour in the privacy of her quarters to get some work done. The problem was she couldn't get any work done. All she could think about was Chris and how she couldn't stop thinking about him. Or stop her body from reacting to him even when he wasn't present. 

Michael looked to Tilly, doing her own reading. She opened her mouth to ask again...and then shut it. Again. Really, what would she even say?

"Oh, my god, what?" Tilly asked, turning to her, long-suffering. Michael blinked at her, confused, but Tilly just shook her head, like she should know better. "We're two meters from each other; I can _see_ you. You've been wanting to ask me something for an hour. Just spit it out. I already know it's about your feelings or sex. Those are the only two things that make you this uncomfortable." 

Michael shifted, unsettled that Tilly could read her so well. Why had she thought talking about this was a good idea? 

Tilly clocked her reaction, seeming delighted. "This is my favorite day. Talk sex to me, Michael, let's do this."

"I'm already regretting this."

"Hey, you've bought the embarrassment, might as well get your answer. What are we talking? Tips? Positions? There's more to life than missionary, I promise," she said sagely.

The implication of that made Michael huff a little. "I know how to have sex. I'm not a prude."

"No, but you're deeply repressed and I, for one, hope the captain is spanking it out of you." Michael flushed at that image, lamenting once again that Tilly knew about her relationship with Chris. Tilly seemed not to notice, warming to her topic. "In fact, let's explore that."

"Let's stick to the subject at hand," Michael corrected, suspecting that was safer territory. 

Tilly made a go-ahead gesture and Michael sighed. Since the issue had already been raised... 

"Ever since I started—I've been noticing—" Michael stopped, shaking her head a little. She was being ridiculous. "I'm turned on all the time. _All the time_. It's all I can think about."

Tilly's eyes widened, clearly not what she expected to hear. But she just smiled, amused. "'kay."

Michael looked at her obviously. "How do I make it stop?"

Tilly scoffed. "Why would you want to?"

"It's incredibly distracting."

"You poor baby. Have you tried having sex?" Tilly asked, dry. 

Michael shot her a look. "Obviously. It just makes me want him more."

Tilly raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. "How much sex are we talking?"

Michael shifted, hating that they were getting into this. "Morning and night," she said, short, excluding the lunchtime interlude because, well. That was an outlier anyway. 

Tilly's eyes widened. "Ohhh," she drawled, like she finally understood. "Yeah, been there."

"Really?"

"My _favorite_ ex," Tilly enthused. "Like, seriously, he rocked my world. We didn't get out of bed for _days_. It was really frustrating to be so sexually compatible with someone who couldn't handle being out with me in public." 

Michael winced, sending her a sympathetic look. "Sorry."

Tilly made a dismissive gesture. "Not meant to be." She got back on track, looking to Michael with understanding. "I take it this is new for you?"

Michael swallowed. With a sum total of a few one-night stands and Ash, Tilly was once again dead-on. "Indeed." She shook her head. "So how did you start functioning normally again?"

"Oh, I didn't." Michael stilled, looking at her incredulously. 

Tilly just shrugged, unapologetic. "This is the honeymoon phase, Michael. The sex and the desire are just feeding each other. You keep getting the dopamine hit so you keep wanting the dopamine hit. It's kind of like an addiction." That seemed to amuse her a little. "You're addicted to the captain."

"Okay, but I'd like to be able to do my job without feeling like I'm ready to jump out of my skin all the time."

"Good luck with that." Seeing that Michael was unsatisfied, Tilly sighed. "My advice? Enjoy it. It'll wear off eventually. Until then, you should ride that orgasmic wave, my friend. You deserve it."

"This has been entirely unhelpful."

"Yeah, sorry. Hey, here's a thought: maybe you need a distraction. Come have drinks with us tonight. Take your mind off all the dirty, sexy things you want him to do to you."

Michael groaned and shut her eyes. "Not helping, Tilly."

Tilly just laughed. 

***

Catching up with Owo and Detmer was entertaining, but Michael found that her mind kept wandering to Chris and what he was up to. Without her. Or what he could be up to _with_ her. 

" _Discovery_ to Michael, come in, Michael," Owo intoned, waving a hand in front of her face, amused. 

"Where is your mind tonight?" Detmer shook her head, smiling. They really were such _kind_ people. 

Tilly took a dismissive sip of her drink. "Don't mind her, she's just distracted by how much dick she could be getting right now." 

Except Tilly. Tilly was clearly here to torment her. 

"Wait, you're seeing someone?" Detmer asked, surprised. 

Michael looked at Tilly evenly. "Thank you, Tilly. I can't imagine why I'd rather be having three orgasms right now."

Michael knew she'd said something wrong by the way they all _stared_. 

"What?" she asked, worried now. 

"I'm sorry, did you say 'three?'" Detmer clarified, seeming mindblown. 

"I definitely heard 'three,'" Tilly confirmed, nakedly envious.

"Shit, I'm lucky if I get to one," Owo muttered. "And even then I have to do it my damn self."

Tilly nodded, insistent: "I'm telling you, Jo, phaser boys are not worth it. They have a hair trigger. I should know." Owo shook her head at Tilly like this was a continuing stalemate between them. 

Detmer frowned. "I'm just bitter that dudes can stick their dicks in anything and come in five minutes, while we need forty."

"Five if you're lucky," Owo said, sounding a little bitter herself. 

"We all deserve better sex," Tilly declared. "Except you, Michael, that's just not even fair."

That focused Detmer again. She turned back to Michael. "So, wait, who is this magical creature and can they give lessons to, I don't know, _all_ the men?" Owo nodded in emphatic agreement. 

Michael blinked, on the spot, no idea how to respond. Before she could—

"Good evening, ladies," a voice interrupted. A very familiar voice, one that slithered down Michael's spine, making her skin go tight and hot. 

They turned to find Chris walking up, drink in hand, regarding them with a little smile. "Well, this looks serious."

"All due respect, Captain, but this is girl time," Tilly said, brazen. She waved her fingers at him. "Shoo."

Chris' smile widened for an instant, delighted by her shamelessness, and then he held out his hands. "Far be it for me to interrupt. Enjoy your night." As he moved on, his eyes slid over Michael, potent as a physical caress. 

And like that, every inch of her body was _screaming_ for him. 

Michael gulped at her drink, wincing at the taste of alcohol, but needing something. She caught Tilly's eyes on her, knowing, and flushed, hating how transparent she apparently was. She turned to Detmer to finally answer her question: "I don't think he's up for sharing."

"Yeah, he's too busy being up for you," Tilly said, dry, making the others smile and Michael flush again. 

Detmer nodded, understanding. "I get it. But seriously, if he's getting you off that much, keep him."

***

Michael lay back on the bed with a bereft sigh. She'd expected Chris to be in his quarters, but he must have found something to occupy himself, thinking she'd still be socializing. So now Michael was all alone and _wanting_ , no Chris to be found. 

She caught Chris' scent as she breathed in, a traitorous little pulse going through her. But then she realized: it wasn't just him. The bed smelled like _them_. The rational part of her realized it made sense; they'd been having quite a lot of sex here. The other part of her _wanted_ , blindly, feeling so empty she couldn't stand it. 

Of its own volition her hand drifted down, slipping inside her uniform pants. At the first touch she gasped, already so sensitized, slick and open. Michael arched as her fingers started moving through her own folds, the pleasure building inside her. Some part of her rebelled against it; she wasn't this wanton person...but mostly it felt too good to stop. 

Dimly, Michael clocked the sound of the doors opening. She moaned, but her fingers just moved faster now, circling her clit, shivers of heat racing through her in time with her heart. 

Then Chris was there, looking down on her, a matching heat in his eyes. "Not what I expected," he murmured, voice already going low. Then he climbed onto the bed, stretching out beside her, eyes tracing from the hand disappearing into her pants back up to her eyes, but not touching. 

"Was waiting for you," she murmured back.

She could see it land in the way his eyes went dark. "You took matters into your own hands, I see."

"Want you," she moaned, the heat of his look making her _ache_. Michael's free hand pulled him to her, lips pressing to his and clinging. 

Chris rolled into it, _taking_ her mouth, fierce, indulging for a moment, but then he pulled back. When Michael moved to follow, her hand stilling inside her pants, Chris made a negative noise. "I want to watch you," he whispered, eyes tracing over her again, hands tugging her pants open further so he could see. 

Michael flushed, the little _zing_ of that adding to the pleasure already bubbling inside her. 

So she shifted and got her pants down to mid-thigh, pressing her hand against herself more firmly, holding Chris' look as she did. He looked stricken, helpless with lust, and it spiraled Michael higher, her thighs trembling, internal muscles fluttering around where he should be. "Chris," she sighed, arching into her touch, feeling his eyes on her, heating her blood.

Already so close, she stopped teasing herself and ran light fingers over her clit, sparking fire up her spine, and suddenly she was _there_ , shuddering uncontrollably as she called his name again, every muscle pulling tight—

And then Chris pulled her hand away, rolling between her legs. "What—" she gasped, but before she could even get the question out, his mouth was on her, suckling at her clit _perfectly_ , everything in her going blinding and hot. Michael cried out, wordless, as he pushed her higher, her orgasm deepening until she couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, her whole focus narrowed to the feeling of his mouth moving on her as she came and _came_. 

After a few delirious moments, Michael gasped, her whole body releasing and slumping back. Chris gentled her through it, mouth still on her, but light. He _hmmed_ against her, making her gasp again as a shudder overtook her. She tugged gently at his hair, too much, and he shifted back to look up at her, mouth and chin shiny. With _her_ , she realized, pressing her fingers there. 

Chris nipped at her fingers, then sucked them in, licking the taste of herself off of them, Michael's body spasming again at the sight. 

She supposed there was a _reason_ she was turned on all the time. 

Chris clocked her reaction, nipping at her fingers once more before releasing them. He moved up so he was on her level, draping an arm over her, warm and comforting. "You've been...distracted today."

"You kept walking around, ordering people to do things," she muttered, resentful. 

Chris flashed a half-smile. "Pretty sure that's my job."

"All I could think about was getting you alone for some personal orders. I had to stop looking at you."

"Noticed that. Though I have to say, if 'hopelessly turned on by everything you do' is the problem, I can't see my way to regretting it," he said, warm. 

Michael grabbed his hand and pressed it between her legs, where she was so obscenely wet. "This is me, all the time," she said, a faint accusation to it. 

Chris shifted his fingers, pressing two of them _in_ , making an appreciative noise as he leaned in to kiss her. Michael moaned a little, tensing around his fingers and sinking into the kiss. 

After a moment, Chris broke away, eyes serious. "You think you're the only one affected?" He moved his fingers inside her rhythmically, waking her body up again. "Sometimes I catch sight of you and have to recite the Klingon alphabet in my head just to stay sane. These pants are _not_ discreet, you may have noticed."

Michael huffed a laugh, then moaned as his fingers curled and rubbed at her g-spot. She moved into his hand, already feeling the tremors building inside her again. She could come like this, on his fingers. Suddenly that was all she wanted. 

Chris leaned down and whispered against her mouth, eyes gleaming and dark. "Every moment of every day, I want to get lost in you."

His thumb moved over clit, _exactly_ how she liked, and Michael's whole body shook, on the edge again. She wrapped an arm around him and crushed their mouths together, hips moving into his hand, desperate for it and not caring. 

Chris kissed her, deep and wet, hand working her, touch expert, until she made a high noise into his mouth and trembled through another orgasm, light flaring behind her closed eyes. 

After, she panted against him, heart pounding, sweaty and sated. She really needed to get out of this uniform. She needed to feel him naked against her, trembling and lost to whatever this was between them.

Michael opened her eyes, finding him watching her with an intensity that squeezed something in her chest. "I hate being out of control," she admitted, finally. 

"I know," he murmured, compassionate, reassuring. "Me, too."

And like that, something in Michael settled. She could see it now, the struggle in his eyes, the overwhelming want. She wasn't alone. He was _with her_. 

Michael leaned in to kiss him again, a soft brush of lips. Then she smiled, just slight. "Well, at least we're out of control together."

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


End file.
